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[faint-waves-music]

2021 in Review (Part 1)

I regret how much I have been away from The Sun Lounge over the past year, but it was necessary due to some large scale life changes and issues with personal health. However, there was so much amazing music in 2021 that I would still love the chance to write about, and over the coming weeks, I will post a small series of year end reviews cataloging many of my favorite releases from across the year. My hope here is both to get back into the flow of writing, and to clear the slate, so that I can approach the music of 2022 unencumbered. And in some spiritual sense, this is me returning to the source for inspiration, as the very firsts posts on this blog collected together my favorite releases from 2017.

This first part contains 30 releases and reviews, and sometime next week, a second part will follow in a similar format. I cannot commit to anything else beyond that, but there is much more music to discuss than even 60 releases, and I have the sincerest intentions to write about more than this if I can find the time. While these reviews are not near so longwinded as my standard fare, I still tried to be as detailed as possible…at least within reason…and though this is coming a bit late, I figure if most people can get away with posting these lists in early December before everything has finished releasing, then I can do so into late January. Above all, I sincerely hope you find some amazing new music here, or are at least reminded of a cool LP or tape you forgot somewhere along the way. 

Fuga Ronto - Greatest Treasure (Phantom Island) If forced to pick a favorite album from 2021, a strong contender would be Fuga Ronto’s Greatest Treasure. Ron Shiller and Tobi Schweizer completely floored me back in 2016 with Invisible Escape, which is about as perfect an LP of White Isle escapism as I can possibly imagine. And somehow with Greatest Treasure, the duo have outdone themselves in crafting a follow-up that is every bit as tropical and tripped out as their debut, yet that also benefits from an enhanced sense of cohesion and a noticeable progression in songcraft. As usual, the Pasador Singers are present with their ebullient vocal patterns, mixing syrupy masculine lows and celebratory feminine highs…all while Shiller and Schweizer craft paradisiacal grooves taking in sun-soaked reggae, islander dub funk, 80s pop exotica, Far Eastern fusion, acid-trip ambient, desert caravan disco, cinematic soundscape psychedelia, world-infused new wave, and much else besides. Stand out moments abound, beginning with the immerse ambient environments and radio broadcasts of the opener, and continuing into the liquid bass grooves, rocksteady skanks, and evolving layers of charismatic vocal magic of the title track…which features hypnotizing group chants, swooning croons, and Sade-esque soul serenades, in addition to light touches of g-funk. Shuffling seaside disco drums dance beneath wordless AOR vocal coos and cascades of crystalline marimba in “Columba de Domingo,” and fourth world fantasy melodies and stoner funk licks accent a slow and low body bop in “Wobble in the Pool”…with heavy soundsystem basslines rattling the chest alongside banging dub drum rhythmics. “Mirror To Water” is pure intoxication, as cosmic ethers pool around a bouncing slap funk dub and balearic soul groove, with almost all the action happening in the completely mesmeric interplay of human voice…the Pasador Singers moving between spiritual chants, hyperventilating hooks, and expressive jazz scats. Horizontal closer “Mystery of Zambio” grows increasingly dramatic as it heads towards the sunset territories inhabited by Art of Noise—including a bewitching choral climax—and whether or not Greatest Treasure was actually my favorite album of 2021, I can definitely say that my favorite track was “Falling Star,” where amongst myriad layers of equatorial groove magic and mystical vocal wonderment sits a truly mind-blowing bassline, which is helped along by prismatic displays of six-string funk riffing and solar organ skank, and a truly wonderful chorus of Talking Heads pop-balearica.

Pablo Color - Hora Azul (Ish Records) Staying in Switzerland, I’ll next discuss Pablo Color’s Hora Azul. True to his name, Pablo’s music is inspired by color—specifically the interplay between color and landscape—and his previous album La Calle Roja took inspiration from the his youth in Puerto Sagunto, with music meant to evoke remembrances of walking home from the beach through a city bathed in hues of shimmering gold and romantic red. Hora Azul, on the other hand, moves later into the evening, when the reds and golds of the setting sun give way to deep purples, pastel pinks, and bold and beautiful blues. And the music reflects this in turn, taking on tones of mystical magic and twilight wonderment…the heart-aching guitar fantasias possessing intertwining airs of ethereality and melancholia…everything windswept, wistful, and vaguely weary. As on La Calle Roja, there is a stunning list of collaborators, perhaps foremost of which is Berlin Lama, who on two tracks adds textures of rhythmic and percussive exotica to Pablo’s flowing guitar webs. The artist is then joined by Lexx on “Aire nocturne,” wherein the duo craft a subdued study for echoing ocean swells, meditative hand drums, and sandy cymbal taps. There is also “Alpha y omega,” which sees Pablo collaborating with Suiso Saiz…two masters of ambient and seaside guitar spanning different generations and uniting together for a deep and dreamy expanse of soundbath esoterica. And its becoming something a tradition to let Chee Shimizu close out a Pablo Color album, and here on Hora Azul—working alongside miku mari—the legendary organic musician delivers a sorcerous and psychotropic remix of “El beso y la noche.”

Buena Onda - Balearic Beats 2021 / Vinyl Sampler Uno (Hell Yeah) No surprise that Hell Yeah Recordings had another stellar year, and I spent a lot of time listening and dancing to the Buena Onda - Balearic Beats vinyl samplers. I am particularly obsessed with “Satellite” by Kayroy, which features a heart-wrenching vocal performance from Jaspar Robinson guiding a downbeat paradise chiller, one where electronics beaming in from cosmic oceans surround sensual fuzz licks and syncopated squelch bass slides. As for the rest of Vinyl Sampler Uno, Feel Fly’s “Esperanto” begins with laid back beachside strut before launching into the stars, as vaporous psych guitars soar above galactic bass pulsations, subdued stellar sequences, dreamchord tracers, and heavy bottomed disco beats. Then on the B-side, Max Essa’s flips The Vendetta Suite’s “Neon Secrets” into a shuffling sunset soother, with bending dolphin song keys, solar chord spells, and liquid guitars pulling the heart towards an impossible horizon. And at the end sits “What is Love,” which finds Chris Coco and Micko Roche crafting an awe-inspiring sunset paean built from wood flutes, mediterranean guitar leads, oceanside field recordings, and hypnotizing beach beats.

Buena Onda - Balearic Beats 2021 / Vinyl Sampler Due (Hell Yeah) Vinyl Sampler Due is equally stunning, and begins as Calm delivers a wondrous remix of Gallo’s “Abysso”…the vibe awash in textures of cosmic acid and disco, with chugging 303 lines and four-to-the-floor beats supporting sighing strings and dreamhouse ivories. Tonarunur’s “Flotholt” is deep trek into the heart of the cosmic ocean, with massive acid basslines and subdued technoid drum patterns eventually giving way to a stunning midtrack expanse of heavenly synthesis and seaside sampling…the whole thing not unlike Farbror Resande Mac. On the B-side, Relative’s “The Healing Place” sees energized chill-out breakbeats accented by subtle future jazz and new age flourishes, as dubwise bass funk, lysergic vocal snippets, and starscape keyboard leads give way to radiant piano chord cascades and wiggling acid displays. Then for the final track, Kayroy appears again, though Gallo is entow, providing one of his ever-wonderful “Tropical Hinterhof” remixes. What results is dreamworld display of future-balearica, with shimmering pianos,  serene vocal flows, and intergalactic winds blanketing IDM-indebted drum and acid patterns.

The Vendetta Suite - The Kempe Stone Portal (Hell Yeah) I mentioned The Vendetta Suite a few paragraphs back, and happily, this long-time Hell Yeah associate released a much awaited 2xLP in 2021 entitled The Kempe Stone Portal, in which the artist expertly weaves together the many shades and styles appearing across his scattered discography. It is a kaleidoscopic journey of epic proportions, taking the listener through landscapes of neon-soaked new wave, soothing sunset synth-pop, effervescent krautrock, post-punk drug chug, ecstasy-laced dream house, alien jungle acid dub, and cloudland kosmische. Perhaps most surprising of all is “Who Do You Love?”…a cover by The Vendetta Suite main man Gary Irwin of The Jesus & Mary Chain’s own cover of Bo Diddely’s original, which was the producer’s first non-dance related work from back in 1998. And still sounding fresh and freaked out, the result is a heroin haze garage psych burner that evokes nothing so much as classic Spacemen 3.

Aura Safari - Hotel Mediterraneo EP (Hell Yeah) Aura Safari joined the Hell Yeah family recently, and in 2021 the group released three awesome works: the Hotel Mediterraneo EP and Lagos Connect single—both on Hell Yeah Recordings—as well as the Niagara / Agua de luna 7" on Terrasolare. I’ll focus here on the Hotel Mediterraneo EP, wherein coral crystal keyboards, acid bass, and syncopated beats lead a balearic glide, one accented by tambourines, pan flute accents, and synthetic reeds. Textures of cosmic disco and Italo house are slowed to a dopamine dream dance while guitars and keys smolder, chime, and shine over greasy synth bass funk, and  sundowner pads float over a dub disco skank while bending squarewaves merge dolphin song and jazz fusion…all amidst radiant runs of piano. Romantic Latin percussions color a sunset disco dance, the vibe patient, methodical, and ultra-slow, and basslines squelch beneath hopeful keyboard refrains, smooth as silk jazz journeys, and sci-fi laser displays.

The Pilotwings - Les Charismatiques (BFDM) In 2021, The Pilotwings added Lastrack to their ranks, and delivered one of the most stunning album experiences of the year in Les Charismatiques. Here, the trio deliver a candy-colored journey through so many shades and styles, with several parts of the album hitting like Trans Am circa Sex Change and Thing. Sparkling synth pop textures and new wave energy grooves merge together as sassy vocal flourishes, anthemic chants, and slap bass funk lines support sky-ripping glam guitars. Blasted boogie drums bash beneath mystical Eastern melodies and druidic throat chants, and serpentine folk guitars lock into psychedelic riff cycles over a stoner prog drum dirge while galactic synths descend rainbow stairways of light…the effect not unlike Pharaoh Overlord/Circle, though with occasional detours taken into soothing sexual funk. Elsewhere, The Pilotwings craft a headtrip of bonged out digi-dub…a skittering bass and splattered drum riddim panorama embellished by zany sample manipulations, aqueous angel breaths, and exotic telephonic tracer melodies. Tribal drum ceremonials awash in interstellar broadcast noise are joined by pastoral guitars swaying in a warm seaside breeze while South Pacific slide melodies, spaghetti western harmonicas, and hazy acid rock vocals create a cinematic panorama of balearic intoxication. Hand drums intersperse pounding funk grooves from faraway planets, wherein arena rock laser leads shred through moments of silence, and masculine vocal sleaze wafts lazily above majestic brass and choral fanfares. And nearing the album’s end, The Piltowings return to very familiar territory, delivering a chill-out breakbeat banger overwhelmed by baroque atmospherics, galactic electronics, and demonic scratch fx; a galactic dance freak jam that pulls much as from tribal trance as it does gonzo 70s space funk; and a sublime slab of eternal broken beat balearica led by faux-exotica vocalizations, new age chime webs, and spiritual shakuhachi spells.

Kanot / Vidock / The Pilotwings - Hit & Run (Abstrack) The Pilotwings were also involved in Kanot’s Hit & Run on Abstrack, which I reviewed in full here. On the two Kanot originals, Can-style krautfunk basslines ping, pong, and pulse over infectious breakbeats and minimalist jazz fusion grooves, while the background swirls with psychotropic shimmers, LSD-glimmers, and refracting webs of echo. Neon-hued synth leads rocket towards universes unknown, and electric and acoustic guitars color the spectrum via heavy doom riffs, liquid fuzz leads, palm-muted echo patterns, and jangling webs of forest folk psychedelia. As for the remixes, Vidock morphs “Turbulens” into a minimal expanse of tribal club drumming and esoteric dub stimulation, wherein acid lines filter through hazes of fire, basslines rattle the ribcage, and mysterious voices babble into the void. Then, The Pilotwings takes the listener on a horizontal rave odyssey awash in mystical magic, wherein ceremonial drums build ever towards ecstasy, futuristic angel voices are chopped into chill-out trance euphoria, laser light arpeggios fire across parallel dimensions, and spiritual choirs sing hymns of the interstellar abyss.

Soshi Takeda - Floating Mountains (100% Silk) Every time I listen to it, I am reaffirmed that Soshi Takeda’s Floating Mountains was my true favorite album of 2021 (I’ll probably say this a lot, but I really mean it here!). Treading the path forged by Larry Heard in the early 90s and possessing a unique melodic sense awash in vibes of imagined nostalgia and bittersweet melancholia, Takeda uses an all hardware setup to concoct escapist paraisos in the old skool balearic mold, majestically morphing between head nodding dream house zoners, trippy beachside chillers, and wide-eyed vistas of ambient intoxication. Loved up club rhythms and jazzy snare flourishes are guided by a bubble bass jack while deep ocean mists surround mystical panpipe leads, drunken sequence cycles, and swirls of galactic light. Equatorial hand percussions pop beneath a new age of panorama of stunning beauty, with smearing steel pans and angelic pad breaths evoking some epic slow motion sunrise…all before pulsing beats and seascape leads work the body into a gentle state of romantic rapture. Phaser strings, tremolo trills, and melting sonic crystals surround heartbreaking melodies of echo-soaked seaglass as they drift peacefully over a slow and low dancefloor pulse, and mermaid voices background prismatic chime displays while seashell flutes and dub chords alternate over rimshots, cymbal shuffles, and a big bulbous four-four kick. Jazz house drums swing and sway beneath smearing siren serenades as dazzling marimba descents pull the heart towards a heavenly horizon. And at the end, gamelan metals and tropical percussion accents support searching guitar slides and a club drum throb…the effect like being whisked away across an infinite ocean surface, with a sky slowly exploding in every possible color.

Liila - Soundness of Mind (Not Not Fun) Liila is the duo of Danielle Davis and Steven Whiteley, who upon meeting at a Zen Buddhist monastery began constructing the mystical musical forms that would become Soundness of Mind. More specifically, the album was conceived during idle time at the monastery using samplers and synths, and later embellished at home studios with further acoustic treatments. The result is a kaleidoscopic journey of wonderment and mystery, which sees sequential cascades of mallet and voice merging, airy basslines bouncing through growing layers of psych organ luminescence, and majestic melodic motions soothing the soul before shaker rhythms introduce a climactic climactic climb towards realms of transcendental light, wherein rainbow lasers bathe the body in a celestial glow. At other moments, caravan jazz rhythms background displays of fourth world fireworks…these textural panoramas of voice, idiophone, and drum sampled and splayed out across the spectrum…and dreamspace pianos swim and soar amidst birdsong, bowed feedback drone, and a crystalline glow. Mystical chime orchestrations and tones of spiritual wood are backgrounded by animalistic saxophone skronk and arrays of methodical temple rhythms; fractal glimmers, orchestral shimmers, and weeping strings swirl above tick-tock marimba meditations and subdued beat structures; and cut-up voices and all manner of indecipherable samples flow in and out of maddening layers of morphing braindance…like Visible Cloaks constructing IDM-influenced dub. And towards the end, plucked zither strings drift through playful progressions amidst clouds of chromium vapor and looping space telephonics.

Troth - Small Movements in Radiance (Not Not Fun) Troth is another duo crafting bewitching ambiance, and in addition to Small Movements in Radiance on Not Not Fun, Amelia Besseny and Cooper Bowman also released their Oak Corridor LP on Knekelhuis. I’ll discuss Small Movements in Radiance here, and in some sense, the title says it all, as Troth use plucked strings, mallet strikes, field recordings, and droning metals to create hushed and subdued compositions awash in a spiritual light…these quiet spells cast against the negative forces of the world. Temple tones quiver, swells of feedback smolder and disperse, and flashes of lullaby melody thread in and out of an echoing forest drum ceremonial that soon recedes to silence. Faded synths hover in hues of monochrome while birdsongs—both real and synthetic—intermingle over a peaceful new age tone poem…one that blurs and softly smolders while bodies of morphing silver resonance occasionally arc across the stereo field. Wavering psych drones from the Bitchitronics school wrap around wind chimes and lofi piano incantations…the effect like an interlude from Mogwai’s Young Team pitched down to a somnambulant slowburn. Later, sacred idiophones ring into space while drones evoke the rippled landings of liquid droplets…a rainfall of ambiance that soon gives way to avian chatter and resonant wave mutations…everything periodically decaying to silence before being awoken again by rapid repetitions of bell and chime. Soothing bass soundbaths birth flowery growths of wordless voice…like angelic beings mimicking the spiritual breath of the universe…over which harp plucks dance like sunbeams, glockenspiels execute mysterious melodic themes, and kosmische organs flutter through slapback, with time kept by methodical chime strokes.

Andra Ljos - Fountain of Inspiration (Not Not Fun) While there is more Not Not Fun coverage to come in the second part of my 2021 in Review series, I’ll finish out this round by discussing the ancient sound ceremonies of Andra Ljos’ Fountain of Inspiration, which like its predecessor The Oasis of Little Birds, is influenced by mythical wellsprings, and more specifically, tells the story of an island water sanctuary in Ancient Greece…the location of Castalia’s death and transformation, and a bathing ground for those seeking the oracle of Delphi. As for the music, on side A, classical kosmische chord progression swim through rivers of sorrow, kalimbas ascend on currents of ether, and cymbal taps phase and flange while deep space leads thread through the air. Woven folk webs emerge over water, bass, and sitar buzz, and dazzling string harmonizations dance both in duel and in round while cracks in the Earth birth ghostly vapors. Cloudy prog chord progressions stoke ritualized energies while minimalist world drums and golden bells underly quivering organs influenced both by Klaus Schulze and reggae skank, which are further colored by whispers and psychotropic leads swathed in distortion. Mellotron flutes sing songs of deep devotion over sparkling oceans of starlight, while subdued sequencers and minimalist world music rhythms float far in the distance. Over on the B-side, sinister voices vaporize amidst headspinning drone constructions…these psychosomatic organ tones that seem to pulsate across the surface of the mind…and exotic dub chord and tribal tom progressions underly reverberating keys and Arabian desert strings. Further layers of Middle Eastern and Aeolian mysticism emerge as bongos background prismatic string plucks and solar organ seances, and eventually, camel caravan rhythms build in strength and propulsion. Elsewhere, time-lag organ accumulations and tremolo string sunstrokes meditate in hushed tones over water samples and cricket chirps, and anodyne android voices drift over a bed buzzing melodics while folksy strings play occasional ditties for a setting sun. 

Li Yilei - 之 / OF (Métron Records) Conceptual sound artist Li Yilei, together with Métron, released one of last year’s most compelling and challenging collections of ambient esoterica in 之 / OF. The album was conceived in and around a time of turmoil and transition for the artist, largely stemming from their exodus to Shanghai from the UK at the onset of the pandemic. Having to quarantine for several weeks upon arrival, Li Yilei used the time in isolation to investigate their relationship to the flow of time and to the natural world, while also using the music as a way to digest a wide range of emotions and concepts…”grief, panic, healing, cessation, melancholy, vastness, hope, joy and emptiness.” What results then is a set of meditations on temporal displacement based on reflective introspection, wherein allegorical sound structures merge with snippets of sound from the natural world…everything intertwining, obscuring, and rebirthing into ever new forms.   Fractal bell tones quiver in morning mist, birdsong surrounds minimalist dream sequencing…alternatively smeared out or landing like Reich-ian mallets…folk strings turn to ether beneath a rain of celestial arpeggiation, and shaker sounds and field recordings move like a swarm of swallows. Metalloid globules morph through currents of cricket chirp, music box melodies lose themselves in a storm of reversing siren sound, and waves crash over psychosomatic flanger fog before giving way to swirling galactic mists, water drop melodics, and mystifying whispers. Lullaby electronics malfunction alongside industrial engine drones and chickadee chitters and screaming geese blend with broken satellite transmissions while elsewhere, symphonies built from bowed alloy and vibrating crystal detune wildly, digital marimbas dance amidst typewriter buzz, and voices babble over kosmische tribal.

Sasha Vinogradova & Alina Anufrienko - Oko (Hidden Harmony Recordings) Hidden Harmony Recordings continued to source incredible sounds in 2021, and I was particularly enamored with Sasha Vinogradova’s & Alina Anufrienko’s Oko LP, which merges electronics, voice, and strings to stunning effect. Cello drones and filter sweeps support flutters of wordless vocalization, meditative metalloids melt over subliminal beat structures, and mesmerizing bow strokes refract layers of light as Vinogradova’s singing grows increasingly unhinged…the whole thing not unlike early Charalambides. Wooden drums and dubby downtempo sub bass background moonlit synth leads and careening phaser cellos—and twinkling keys, wheezing reeds, and underwater orchestral accents support a drifting vocal elegy concerned with the strength in sadness and the silence following death, which eventually devolves into a wordless wall of droning terror, wherein unknowable voices speak the secrets of ghosts. Malfunctioning morse codes buzz over broken string seances and modular electronics add a subtle sense of propulsion while anti-musical organs obscure conversational chit chat. Rains of seasick sequencing evoke falling snow as child-like voices grow increasingly unhinged while dancing upon threads of cello-generated serenity…all before rustling tribal beats make an appearance…like a brief astral flight towards some psychedelic forest ceremonial. Exotic percussive whispers support lullaby sequences and strange synthetic squiggles for a fourth world odyssey into the sphere of dreams, with the album’s liner notes suggesting visages of a “giant ship sailing in the distance.” Then, at the end, tick tock taps and flutey synths dance together while strings sing whalesongs over harmonious chimes..the whole thing slowly vaporizing into otherworldly ether.

B'Zircon / Perko - Lazulination EP (Kalahari Oyster Cult) B'Zircon is something of a sonic dream team, pairing as it does two of my favorite practitioners of triptastic rave: Roza Terenzi and Fantastic Man. There are two original cuts here on the Lazulination EP, with opener “Azure” barreling down into a deep trip of progressive house ecstasy that features lysergic vocal cut ups, bugged out acid basslines, and anthemic chord progressions. On the flip sits “Lazulination,” an extended excursion starting its life as a liquid breakbeat trip out before evolving into a zoned out odyssey of progressive, techno, and trance textures…the vibe at once energizing and calming. And as a special treat, Perko’s remix smashes both cuts together into a balmy and futuristic slice of dubwise downbeat.

Fantastic Man - Cloud Management (Test Pressing x Love International) Speaking of Fantastic Man, the artist teamed with Test Pressing and Love International for the excellent Cloud Management 12". Here, Fantastic Man pushes towards some of his most balearic work yet, with euphoria-inducing breakbeats and psychosomatic bass patterns working the body beneath dreamspace pianos, aqueous pads, and polychrome clouds of electro-tracer lysergia. Elsewhere, low slung acid lines grind and growl as slow motion tribal rhythmics and animalistic electronics evoke alien jungle ecosystems. And rounding out the experience is a jacking acid and breakbeat workout accented by flowing melodies of sea-floor crystal.

Peyote Dreams / Roza Terenzi / Alex Kassian - State of Mind (Slack Mix) (Love on the Rocks) “State of Mind (Slack Mix)” by Peyote Dreams was written in 1993 (and remixed in 94), and was put back into the ether last year by Love on the Rocks. The original is a pure adrenaline rush of proto-trance rhythmics, rubber band synth bass, popping tabla rhythms, Goan forest squelch, and cosmic synthesis that doesn’t let up for a single second across its extended run time. Instead, it just continually evolves, working the body into a state of pure ecstasy, and tickling the mind with layers of extra-terrestrial acid psychedelia. On the B-side, Alex Kassian presents a muscular and supercharged update that skews close to the vibe of the original, though a bit slower and more spacious—minimized in some respects, maximized in others—with dopamine vocal samples, cracking dub drum fill fx, and a modernized big room trance feel. And then there is Roza Terenzi, who makes the absolutely inspired decision to slow the track way down into contemporary trance and progressive breakbeat territory, with the subsonic frequencies jacked up and that bassline becoming a slithering dub club head-nodder. Tablas pop slow and low and the beats are bolstered by additional percussive accents, while slow motion space sequences, otherworldly synth fogs, and psychotropic dolphin calls arc across the sky.

Alex Kassian - Leave Your Life (Pinchy & Friends) While on the subject of Alex Kassian, I’ll mention here the artists utterly spellbinding Leave Your Life release on Pinchy & Friends. If “Fallen Star” by Fuga Ronto was my track of the year, “Leave Your Life (Lonely Hearts Mix)” was a VERY close second, and sees Kassian deftly sampling a familiar Jon Anderson vocal hook and then repurposing it into the single greatest pop track of 2021, one that’s earned more than a few Talk Talk comparisons. The drums stomp steadily beneath a rainfall of shimmering guitar, with emotive basslines growling and sliding into the depths of the heart. Multi-lingual vocal samples flow in and out, subdued pads breath in hues of gold and silver, and by the time that anthemic hook hits, there is nothing left but pure surrender, as mind and body succumb completely to Kassian’s blissed out world of wavey art rock perfection. Following an amped up, dubbed out, and tribalized house remix of “Leave Your Life,” Kassian then delivers “Spirit of Eden,” an exotic hammock house sundowner owing a bit to Metheny and Mays, which is subsequently transformed by Bill Laswell into a deeper than deep jazz flute and echo dub odyssey.

Pejzaż - Wyspa (The Very Polish Cut Outs) Bartosz Kruczyński’s sample/edit project Pejzaż released not one but two new albums in 2021, though I’ll only discuss Wyspa here, as Noce i Dnie has yet to arrive. Even for Pejzaż, the range of styles and moods presented across the Wyspa LP is shocking, as Kruczyński expertly weaves together hundreds of samples sourced from forgotten corners of Poland’s musical history, resulting in perhaps his strongest work to date. Woozy rap and lysergic trip-hop rhythms boom and bap, with thrilling transitions and startling cuts giving a continual sense of narrative progression. Forest folk guitars drift over acid jazz breakbeats while emotive soul hooks loop through the air, filmic orchestrations sing through layers of vinyl crackle as sleepy-eyed voices spit lyrical flows, and samples of earnest art-rock ephemera transform into glorious hymns of praise for eternal ocean, while elsewhere, piano loops shower down moonlight and strings sigh beneath layers of falsetto pixie soul. Porn funk wah guitars waver over rain samples and broken downtempo grooves while ivories, mallets, and sax evoke vaporwave sunsets; mysterious drones murmur through stretches of melting ambient; and fried fuzz guitars shred over power trio psych grooves before dropping abruptly into bouncing bubblegum pop exotica. Best of all, minimalist cascades constructed from synthetic FM glass give way to a completely arresting section of DnB and junglist mayhem, the gonzo layers of adrenaline fueled beat science alternaely supporting syrupy raps and heart-wrenching hooks of paradise soul.

Mori-Ra - Japanese Breeze (Rotating Souls / Forest Jams) Turning my attention now to another master of the edit, Mori-Ra released his most ambitious and colorful work to date with Japanese Breeze, which features selections from the artists long running mix series of the same name. Though this is not always the case, Mori-Ra’s productions tend towards the ultra-psychedelic end of the balearic spectrum, with the artist reconfiguring all manner of popular and experimental musical ephemera from his native Japan into far-out drug chuggers, blasted and bass heavy dub disco dancers, slow stoner funk rockers, equatorial exotica boppers, and stretches of hypnotic body music minimalism. And while much of this is indeed present on Japanese Breeze, the artist seems to be operating with a slightly lighter touch at times, and many of the tracks are are suffused with an air of tropical city-pop optimism and a clean jazz fusion sheen, including the ripping phaser leads and adrenaline heavy funk disco rhythms and prog rock progressions of “Sky;” the infectious electrosoul rhythms, slap bass flourishes, photo hip hop hooks, and sky-burning solos of “Suddenly;” and also one of my favorite tracks all year in album opener “Feel”…a fresh blast of bouncing synth bass, fuzz guitar pyrotechnics, and hazy AOR hooks that seem to drift towards infinite horizons. Elsewhere, Mori-Ra barrels down into stretches of sorcerous dance psychedelia and leftfield groove esoterica, such as on “Pygmy,” where chaos clusters of tripped out organ fall over a sweaty and tribalistic house groove; on “Image,” which layers idiophones, desert riffs, and whooshing winds over a Latin-infused drum machine groove; and on “Modern,” with a vibe looking forward to Land of Light’s “Flares” and wherein skeletal beats and squelch bass blasts underly gothic string incantations, mystical piano cascades, islander hand drums, and threads of angel breath…all before ascending to the stratosfear on waves of celestial light…as liquid keys and harmonious chord strokes rain down over a triumphant rhythmic eruption.

Various Artists - Chill Pill III (Public Possession) Public Posession’s Chill Pill series is, at least to my mind, a modern attempt to recreate the vibes of Jose Padilla’s Cafe del Mar mixetapes, as well as things like React’s Real Ibiza series. In other words, they are compilations intent on surveying and collecting some of the finest downbeat, chill-out, ambient, and outsider balearica being made currently. But whereas the first two volumes leaned slightly more balmy and blissful, Chill Pill III at times pushes into psychedelic, rocking, and club friendly territory, and the interplay between the heady and horizontal makes for an extremely captivating listening experience. There are truly too many standouts to name across the 2xCD set, but I will at least mention the Floydian prog funk of Turzi’s “Watermill,” the anthemic downer pop of “White Flag” by 6 Underground, the Ibiza-gazing and jazz-indebted downtempo of Nice Girl’s “Will U,” the supremely stoned fuzz rock cruiser “P.C.H.” by Avocado Highway, and the setting sun soul sway of Mogwaa’s & Xin Seha’s “숨(Breath).“ Elsewhere, there are moments of blissful introspection, such as the organic rhythms of and sleepy-eyed acoustic flourishes of Martin Brugger’s “Fall Out,” and the American primitive and freak folk romances of Suzanne Kraft’s “ChaptersAC464.” Andras deliver krautrock-leaning stretches of cloudform breakbeats in “cp3”…like Harmonia scoring a post rave chill-out room…and R_R_ lets a dusty and jazz-soaked hip hop rhythm walk beneath melting pads, quivering melodics, smearing chime strands, and lullaby arps. And as for one of my absollute favorite tracks all year, Superpitcher’s “Sometimes” lets narcotizing minimalist club grooves and lysergic sample manipulations dazzle the mind and body while kinetic echo guitars, mystical Middle Eastern melodies, and stirring string synths flow in and out of the stereo field.

Various Artists - HOME (Warm) HOME is a towering achievement in the world of compilations, and is that ultra-rare type of collection that functions as a seamless and self-contained whole. Carefully and lovingly curated by Ali Tillet, the album merges field recordings from Gary Moore with exclusive selections from a truly incredible selection of artists, and each side is themed after different scenic locations around Tillet’s home of Dorset. The result is a paean to both landscape and soundscape, as gentle, horizontal, and organic strains of ambient and balearic merge with immersive soundbaths sourced from the natural world. To name some highlights, Natural Calamity deliver a beautiful expanse of Café del Mar-style magic, as jazz cymbals, island hand drums, shakers, and gentle rainfalls of acoustic guitar are overlaid by heartaching string orchestrations and wordless vocal enchantments…the effect not unlike Sth. Notional’s “Yawn Yawn Yawn.” Paqua are here with an instrumental version of “Escondido” from Claremont Editions 2, wherein lofi exotica beats anchor an infectious acoustic guitar, funk bass, and squelch synth sway, one that eventually builds to a climax of oceanic pad layers and a ripping solo of stoner blues. As for Coyote, the pair thread a characteristically lysergic vocal sample through stuttering broken beats and prismatic dub electronics, while overheard, seaglass pianos, currents of brass, and angel breath guitars land like a mirage. Kirk Digorgio presents AS One contributes a stirring post-classical meditation for spectral strings and storming bass, and Brainchild merge chamber orchestrations, jazz rhythms, and fusion piano pyrotechnics, resulting in a rush inducing post-rock epic. Richard Norris lets victorious new age pianos ascend through clouds of galactic ether; Fug craft ambient soul and R&B poetics over minimal arrangements of piano, contrabass, and heavenly voice…all before transitioning into HOME’s second section of emotional post-rock; and Bobby Lee & Mia Doi Todd craft a pastoral psych blues and folk shuffler in the vein of Nev Cottee, Almunia, and Pink Floyd. Appearing again on this list, Pablo Color is joined by HOVE for a study in quiet ambient minimalism and sparkling space drone, which is eventually given motion by currents of deep ocean bass, and to close, Âme create fourth world and minimalist dream music, with smooth brass and balafons dancing…the kind of thing that would fit nicely on D.K.’s Distant Images.

Various Artists - Lucky Are Those Who Hear the Birds Sing (Growing Bin Records) On Lucky are Those Who Hear the Birds Sing, Growing Bin main man Basso has pulled together another surprising set of rarities and forgotten gems dedicated to those chance encounters in life where special records seem to find you, rather than the other way around. Though only progressing across a handful of tracks, the stylistic ground covered is characteristically vast, beginning with the proto-Wolf Müller style tribal dance trance of One Tongue’s “Coffee,” which further features mystical voice samples, Can-style bass mantras, forest flutes, mundane spoken word, and blasts of saxophonic fire. Stars of a recent revival collection on Left Ear, I.A.O. appear next with a track of sunday strolling new age and flowery soft jazz, led by cymbal taps, Afro-folk lullaby melodics, and purring woodwinds. Matthias Raue’s contribution is a joyous set of percussive texture and melodic mirth, as mechanized world drums lock into tribal ceremonial while poorly synthesized orchestras weave hymns of sunshine exotica. “Fruendschaft” by Hardy Kukuk finds mutating sequences tripping and falling over plodding drums and kosmische synths descending like rays of light on a shimmering sea surface, until the whole thing morphs into a soaring slice of pastoral prog balearica. On the flip, Frank Suchland whispers expressively over pan pipes, chime strands, subliminal soul samples, and pooling vortices of reverb in “Schnee,” and on “Conversations of Everyday Lovers,” Die Fische travel to faraway desert oases with their meditative caravan jams…bowed strings, droning organs, and Arabian synths that land like a mirage over methodical world drum structures. And ending the show is perhaps Basso’s finest discovery yet in Hugh Mane’s “Out in the Ether,” wherein liquid future jazz basslines, popping breakbeats, infectious handclaps, morphing space leads, and gemstone idiophonics ride some eternal wave of circular jam fantasy.

Various Artists - Air Waves (Dream Chimney) Dream Chimney made a return to tape in 2021 with the release of Air Waves, and as with their awesome Demo Tracks cassettes from a few years ago, we are treated to an expertly selected set of baked wave chillers, California coastal cruisers, and balearic beaters sourced from all across the world. To be brief, I’ll again mention a handful of highlights, starting with LOVA’s “Lento Levante,” a loved up boogie beat and tropical synth bass groove out surrounded by washing ocean vapors and accented by some of the catchiest guitar hooks of the year…these paradisiacal licks and wailing leads that soar the soul towards a perfect sunset horizon. Also on Side A, Giorgio Lopez lets equatorial idiophones and synthesized ocean crystals sparkle over hyperactive synth bass and desert island dub beats…the whole thing landing somewhere between Fuga Ronto and A Vision of Panorama. Longstanding favorite Faint Waves is also here with a heart-wrenching soft pop sundowner featuring sea samples, symphonic strings, and an understated yet completely dazzling interplay between synth, marimba, and steel pan. Over on Side-B, Sorcerer delivers wiggy, wavering, and futuristic beach funk with some truly stunning whammy bar and surf psych riffadelics, and all-timers Bonnie & Klein amp the energy with hard-hitting slab of mediterranean dance club euphoria led by spacious disco drums, palm-muting riff percolations, glass-toned fusion runs, and galactic descents of synthesized neon. And showing up again to end the show is new favorite Soshi Takeda with tones of spiritual metal and wood falling like a soft tropical storm over a breathtaking soundworld comprised of new age angel pads, minimalist world percussions, sea spray guitar slides, and mutating pan-pipe leads.

Hear & Now - Milvus (Claremont 56) Hear & Now delivered their third immersive long player in 2021, with Milvus landing as always on Claremont 56. The duo of Marcoradi and Ricky L here deliver another stunning collection of spiritual ocean ambient, delirium inducing dreamhouse, funk-infused space disco, and soul-balm balearica, wherein seaside jazz bass walks beneath purring noir brass and fluid blues guitar while cosmic synths and coral-colored pads repeatedly crash like waves to shore. Spaghetti Western whistles flit aside smears of trumpet and sprays of lead guitar over a triumphant Italo house body groove, and melodicas thread through solar organ ska strokes and hovering hazes as dub basslines work the body in support of a rocksteady riddim flow. Seasick pads guide a stretch of Floydian disco and futuristic funk, with thrilling key change basslines and climactic displays of dueling space guitar. Glass pianos climb currents of Adriatic ambient before dropping into chordscape wonderment as everything else transitions towards low down and body banging deep house bliss…a transcendental 90s headtrip perfect for sunset dance escapism…while later, star-dancing disco is pitched down and spread way out, resulting in a head-nodding stretch of slow bass funk and dopamine club drumming overlaid by whalesong guitar ambiance, reverberating reeds, and dub percolations. Metronomic shakers and kicks shuffle beneath subearthen bass slides and raining cascades of seafloor crystal before those infectious whistles return once more, first floating over a beatless paradise, then guiding a sleepy-eyed ambient house dream journey, and at the end sits an engrossing expanse of horizontal romance…a hand drum guided flight into heavenly spheres, with mind and body caressed by angel voices and fuzz guitar vapors, and carried out over the surface of some eternal sea by serene shaker rhythms and pulses of bass sensuality.

Tony Esposito / Hear & Now - Kalimba de Luna (Archeo Recordings) Tony Esposito’s “Kalimba de Luna” is presented here in its long version, and is as searching and sun-soaked as ever, with textures of tropical reggae, cosmic prog, Italo pop, and tribal psychedelia merging beneath colorful woodwind accents and Esposito’s pleading vocal refrains. As for the remixes by Hear & Now—which sound all the more radical and transformative sitting next to the original—we first have the “Land of Sunshine Remix,” which sees balmy sunrise swells and hand drums backgrounded by seaside field recordings while emotive basslines walk white sand beaches. Snippets of voice smear into oceanic fog, gemstone pianos ascend to the heavens, and during a midtrack breakdown, guitars quiver and sing alongside celestial strings and desperate voices…all until hand drums and liquid leads return the spirit to a world of ambi-balearic bliss. Hear & Now’s “Onda Nueva Remix,” on the other hand, immediately launches into narcotizing disco and burning boogie, with syncopated bassline stabs, cracking club drums, Floydian palm mutes, heady future chants, and energized 70s-style piano riffs…everything building and building towards a climactic launch into a neon sky, with interstellar arps firing and galactic blues guitars wailing far in the distance.

L’Eclair - Confusions (Les Disques Bongo Joe) L’Eclair’s newest 2xLP Confusions takes things to a whole new level for the band, as they wrote and produced the album over an extended period of months, which contrasts their usual tendency to record live to tape over the course of a few days. Afforded the space and time to refine their compositions, L’Eclair ended up producing an expansive and awe-inspiring paean to the history of progressive head music, one that—at least to these ears—intersects the various works of a wide range of artists and styles…Emrbyo, Can, Mushroom, Magma, Tortoise, Guapo, The Heliocentrics, Cave, and the entire constellation of artists emerging from Miles’ 70s fusion period. But this is not a simple study in psych music nostalgia, for the group also fold in textures influenced by Artificial Intelligence-style ambient and IDM, by the shadowy melodrama of giallo soundtracks, by production techniques and melodic progressions from the world of reggae and dub, and by a crate diggers sense of rhythmic flow owing something to legends such as Madlib, Doom, and Dilla. And while there’s so much to love here, with the group effortlessly flowing through syncopated sci-fi disco and futuristic boogie, space age lizard lounge,  alien ecosystem lovers rock, proto-technoid body funk, tribalistic acid house, squelch bass balearica, desolate desert dirge, kosmische experimentation, first wave post-rock ritualism, and much else besides, I’ll make special mention of sidelong epic “Cosmologies.” Here, the group morphs from angular fusion into a sorcerous spell of heavy breaks, Cuzkay bass, palm muting shadow descents, and filtering synths that burn the air like fire…all before dropping into an extended section of cinematic guitar and piano folk overlaid by all manner of avant-garde melodic magic. And as the filmic ambiance fades away, a slamming section of kinetic breakbeat funk and minimalist drone psychedelia emerges, working both the body and mind into a state of total transcendence.

Maston with L’Eclair - Souvenir (Innovative Leisure) While on the subject of L’Eclair, the group joined together with psychedelic cineaste Frank Maston for one of the years most surprising and exciting outings. On Souvenir, lilting rhythms land like air while plucked electrics background vibraphone enchantments and synthesizer strings…all before a slowburn ascent towards the night sky, as menacing fuzz guitars twang alongside theremin-esque siren spells. Keys and guitar converse across the stereo field as a stretch of Broadcast-leaning psych pop waltzes in support of fluid bass guitar melodics and romantic woodwind leads, and in one of the most stirring moments of the year, Maston pleads “do you feel it working?” atop a mysterious jam of prog-Americana and orchestral Laural Canyon blues, his heavenly hooks wrapping around the heart as the spirit drifts lazily through flower field grooves and tropical jam flourishes…with harp-like tones falling and psychedelic wah licks riding on a head bopping hand drum beat. Daydream organs and bell-tone keys call back and forth over jangling guitar webs, funk basslines, and sunny soul rhythms, and falsetto voices coo softly over a dubby broken beat swing, wherein soaring squelch synths and twang guitars execute magnificent harmonizations…something about the vibe reminding me of Greg Weeks, if only vaguely. Flutes purr and prance over down low tropicalia, as exotica basslines lead shuffling ska funk rhythms, and Canterbury-esque prog folk balladry lilts over equatorial island jazz drum beats and whispering wah guitars while organs play colorful cycles and aqueous chord orchestrations….all as Maston sings with innocent, sweet, and soulful grace. And at the end, buzzing subsonics, stoner prog basslines, and methodical doom rhythms hold the flow beneath menacing guitar twang, string synth melodramas, moonbeam leads, and shades of freakadelic fuzz.

Maston - Darkland (Phonoscope / Be With) Maston’s Darkland also saw a vinyl release in 2021 courtesy of Be With. Culled from the same sessions as the artist’s incredible Tulips LP—and in some sense forming a shadow self to that album—Darkland lands with a similar sense of cinematic grace, as Maston delivers another set of filmic miniatures, library flourishes, and extended songforms influenced by the likes of Ennio Morricone, Jean-Claude Vannier, Piero Umiliani, and of course, the music of vintage KPM. Throughout the album, radiophonic vibrato melodics and baroque keys ring over pulsing prog ballads, church organs sing sorrowful serenades, and martial snares and bell tapes underly fairy flute ascents. Primitive rhythm box beats support carnival basslines and lysergic melodies of childlike mirth, while later, bedroom fantasy orchestrations float above a psych jazz drum swing. Low down stoner funk bass, tight breaks, and solar riffs jam beneath swaying theremin symphonics and lofi western twang, and heading into the B-side, evocations of sunset tropicalia introduce a cinematic pop psych epic replete with desert sand string symphonics and an infectious reverb guitar and swing drum interplay that reminds me so much of Broadcast’s “The Book Lovers” (there is no higher compliment I could possibly pay!). Smokey guitars lead a short stretch of sundowner funk, and dreamy heart & soul melodics transport the mind to a fabled 50s pop paradise. Elsewhere, porn funk wah guitars and space age bachelor pad keys intermingle, twanging surf guitars meander over ethereal jazz pop and doo-wop ephemera, and acoustic guitars sketch out psych folk romantics. Perhaps best of all, there is a chill-inducing melodic callback to one of Tulips’ stand out tracks, with ”Endless” on Darkland referencing the wide-screen Morricone adventures of “Rain Dance.”

Common Saints - Starchild (Starsonics) Following on from a completely stellar debut in Idol Eyes, Charlie J. Perry and his Common Saints project dropped a new set of starry-eyed pop and astral psychedelia in 2021 with the release of Starchild. Ecstatic and wordless vocalisms soar over burning fusion jams that break down into soulful expanses of ambient funk, airy grooves awash in Floydian blues and pastoral prog background ethereal vocalizations and liquid guitar leads, and serpentine basslines slip slide over melodramatic grooves as they vibe between subdued Arabic surf and baroque acid pop…all as Perry flows through hyperventilating hooks, ripping fuzz solos, and shadowy layers of vocal desperation. Elsewhere, smoldering stretches of sundowner soul and islander funk support golden-toned falsettos, spirit-stirring croons, and Laurel Canyon folk harmonies, and doom-tinged dirges are built from epic overdriven riff progressions before giving way to paradisiacal stretches of pop perfection in the style of Hiroshi Sato…that is, until everything builds towards an absurdly anthemic climax of heavy stoner riffing and sorcerous six-string soloing.

(images from my personal copies)

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Infuso Giallo - Dream Roll (from Ocular Soda, Kame House 2021)

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The State Of Faint Waves, 2022 and beyond.

Few will read this, of that I have no doubt. However, I’ve always enjoyed writing and I think for my sanity, it’s important I record some things here. For myself, if no one else.

I’m coming up on ten years since the inception of this project. I wasn’t particularly doing anything other than tinkering and you could argue I didn’t even really begin, as I am now, until 2015. However, the project began, the name was created and the idea was born in 2013. With that in mind, I think it’s important for me to acknowledge that I have not made the strides I thought I would in this amount of time. Yet, I’ve also accomplished more than I could’ve dreamed. It’s a conundrum, I know. I suppose it’s the dream vs the expectation. Did I expect what I’ve gotten, how far I’ve come? I didn’t and that’s why I’m proud of what I’ve built, even if it’s not as grand as you or I might think it should be after nearly a decade.

I use that word, “built”, because it’s very much true. I have put music and this project first in many respects, sometimes even to my detriment. I’ve fought to get to something, to create something, to find my sounds and construct a musical world with them. In the process, I’ve struggled and I’ve learned, and I’ve made strides musically. I’m still learning, I will be until the end. Time has passed and I’ve done so much, I can look at my body of work and I see now that I’ve made music I love and sought out before I was a musician. Of course, my relationship with it is not one like the listener, but it’s gratifying in a different way. It’s been a long road and I guess that’s why I’m writing this, reflecting on everything and sort of declaring where I am and how I’m moving forward with this project.

I’ve struggled a lot during the tenure of this project, on a personal level. I hesitate to use the word suffering, because there are individuals out there who face true strife and hardship every day. Me, my problems and the turmoil I’ve faced, much of it is my own doing — be it directly or indirectly. Some it as well is because I’m so sensitive, it’s far easier for me to shut out or ignore feelings I dislike than to actually face and process cruelty and sadness of any fashion. I suppose life and the last six years in particular, they’ve jaded and hindered me. I’ve wallowed, grieved, and I’ve succumb to torment and anguish, both mental and physical. I have broken through all that but I will have to fight for the rest of my life, likely. This all sounds bleak but I assure you, I am well. The worst is behind me. I’m just saying that there’s much I’ve worked through and likely, will continue to work through, as time goes on. How Faint Waves factors in, is complicated. There have been times where I felt I haven’t had it in me to continue, others where I feel inspired and could keep going forever. Balance or clarity in that respect, it’s rare for me.

I have no intention of ending this project, I suppose that’s important to address. My output in recent years has probably been evidence enough of that. Simultaneously though, I know this road can’t continue like it has been. Things must change. Pumping out themed EP’s is nice, as a novelty, but it’s not something I can do forever. Thus far, the muse has been there and the EP’s have come, with relative ease. Most of them have been “successful”, it hasn’t been a case of diminishing returns. For that I am grateful. Thank you for your support. However, beyond the muse and the inspiration, I have to continue to build. There are certain goal posts I’ve reached in increments over the years, the most recent is getting an entirely original work of mine (and mine alone) on physical. Which is happening, my EP, Statue & Palm (originally intended for release through Adhesive Sounds), will be on tape through Utopia District (not Tiger Blood as I originally thought). It’s happening though, at least.

That’s one less goal, which is great, and I’ll be glad when it’s behind me. On to the next. I have to keeping striving for something more, in respect to my life and my music. I say “my life” because, even after all these years, I don’t understand myself as well as I like and I’m unsure of who I am as a person. That’s a personal detail and again, there’s a great lack of balance and clarity there. Maybe the picture will be clear one day or perhaps, it never will be. I don’t know. I may never reach a true “self”. I feel compelled to keep searching, though. I haven’t found whatever it is I’m looking for and despite my many strides in certain areas like my years of sobriety, I feel my life and my inner being is still in disrepair. I can’t blame the music for that, if anything, it’s helped me. It’s the great love of my life and my purpose, one of them at least. It always has been. Yet, like I said, I’ve put it first time and again. Perhaps, that’s simply not sustainable like it has been. I must put me first and look ahead, continue growing and changing, and learning. The desire for that might be why I’ve been looking toward the future, trying to imagine how I could continue, as a person and as Faint Waves.

The only thing to say in that respect, is that there’s a lot of work to be done. Especially in terms of myself. As for Faint Waves, what I have envisioned lately, is quite ambitious. I’ve always known how to dream, it’s just bringing those dreams to life that I’ve struggled with. A way forward that I can see is, of course, finally constructing a live show for Faint Waves and taking it out there on the road. Which, needless to say, is no small task. Frankly, it isn’t at all doable right now and won’t happen this year, but it’s now something I want to work toward. It’s never once really been on the table, despite the occasional ask, but I can see how to do it now. Other goal posts have to come first, I need to grow as a musician and my audience has to grow substantially for it to be a legitimate option, so we’re talking three years minimum if I’m being realistic. Even so, the desire is there, for the first time. It came after a sort of epiphany I had watching a concert film, it was one of those rare moments of clarity where I had enough perspective to see that it was within my power.

Another goal, is a true full length album, maybe more than that in the long term. I say “true”, because Great Blue is almost like more of an eclectic mixtape rooted in pop and dance sounds, a concept album almost. I would like to make a cohesive, concrete full length debut album, featuring both instrumental songs and vocal tracks. One area that has become clearer with time, is the artist that I am, it’s just becoming the one that I can be that I must work toward. Some other things, on a personal level, have to happen before I can get there. It’s a confluence of things, a storm, and I am in the eye of it. I am scared and hopeful in regards to the person I can become, I am grieving the person I thought I wanted to be but now understand that I cannot be, and I am being the person who simultaneously feels stuck and as though I am running out of time. Faint Waves, too, is caught in the middle of all of it. So, I have to keep putting in the work, trying to understand and learn. I have to change, the music has to change, I have to make decisions, and find direction. There’s a future for me and a future for Faint Waves, I can see how they can coincide, and that makes me optimistic for the future — no matter how daunting it may be.

Thank you.

[faint-waves-music]

Hiroshi Sato - 浄土 (from Orient, Kitty Records 1979)

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Hideaways III is one of the more intricate and fine tuned projects I’ve ever done. Something of a lesson in mining my old ideas and inspirations, while incorporating new ones and going about things a little differently. Going into Hideaways III, there was a lot of questioning on my part. How do I follow up the last two Hideaways, while still doing something new? There was a lot of asking how so and so did this, what this act did there, etc. I’ve always worn my inspirations and influences on my sleeve, but this was less about trying to outright copy the acts I love and take inspiration from, and more about incorporating elements of their techniques and ideas into my own methodology and things I did on the old Hideaways EP’s. I’m a nerd for the behind the scenes stuff anyway; like many artists and music lovers, that’s the stuff I read for fun, always have. So investigating certain acts, albums, and sounds for the sake of Hideaways III wasn’t really going too far out of the way for me. It’s all very much in line with my interests and what I do for fun anyway, so having that reflect in what I’m working on at the time was just an added bonus and was really quite rewarding.

The first example and maybe the most obvious on the EP, is track 1, Mirage. Very clearly inspired by Chris Isaak and more specifically, James Calvin Wilsey. James was Chris’ player for something like 12 or 13 years and when you think about Chris’ music and his sound, you’re most likely thinking about James Wilsey, whether you know it or not. As much as I enjoy every era of Chris Isaak’s music, there’s no denying the dreamy, reverb-laden twang that paved the way. That’s James. An immense, underrated talent that is unfortunately no longer with us. If he was, I would’ve absolutely asked him to play on the record. Since that wasn’t an option, me just having an idea for this sort of track was little more than an idea, I needed a player who could capture the vibe I was after. Before I could seek out a session player, I actually had something somewhat serendipitous happen. Through Grant Williams, label head for Eclectics (a label I’ve worked closely with a few times in the past), I discovered Cole Odin. Eclectics released Warmth by Cole Odin, which features a song called “This Kitchen Is For Dancing”. “This Kitchen” is a mellow groover built around some jangly, dreamy, twangy guitar work. Naturally, I heard that track and it got my wheels turning. I got in touch with Cole and inquired as to who was playing on the record and he filled me in, he said it was a close friend of his named Randy Clark, then offered to introduce us. Very kind of him. After that, me and Randy got acquainted over messenger and he was on board to help me out. I sent Randy a pretty minimal sort of backing track and about a day later, he got back to me with the guitar. I did a little bit of editing and mixing with the guitar parts but otherwise, that’s all Randy, he did a tremendous job and really captured the vibe well. The end result is a lovely guitar-centric homage, with Faint Waves’ trademark congas, vibraphone, and marimba appearing at intervals as well.

The second track, Tempest, is a little tougher to pin down. This track was the first one started and completed on Hideaways III. My goal with this track was to sort of follow up my song “Dancing Flame” (released via Higher Love Recordings), and despite where the track ended up going, I do think the similarities in the two are still there. There are lots of elements and influences that are present, some easier to discern than others. Shades of 80’s era Dennis Brown, 80’s era Fleetwood Mac, and 90’s era Tears For Fears are all present. The breathy “skanking” is from the Arturia CMI, their Fairlight VST, it gave the song a nice overall color that put me in mind of Tango In The Night. The bass, it’s not a far cry from the usual basslines I write (which tend to be more foundational than especially melodic), but it’s also a bit Fleetwood Mac inspired as well. In terms of notation and cadence, it’s got sort of a vague John McVie feel to it, at times I’d compare it most to his work on “Dreams” and “The Chain” respectively. The guitar is directly inspired by the lovely jazz sort of portion of “Brian Wilson Said” by Tears For Fears, off TFF’s Elemental album. Roland Orzabal is a tremendously versatile player and he gets an absolutely beautiful and jazzy tone on that song. I worked with a lovely player named Jura Santana and he did a brilliant job. I originally intended the guitar on this track to be classical, but I’m glad I opted for something different, because I think it turned out beautifully and it was an absolute joy to work on. Would love to work on more smooth, jazz pop style material in the future, I think this was a good sort of testing ground.

Next there’s Hypnotize. It started as a pure homage to Fleetwood Mac and their Tango In The Night era but it evolved a bit along the way too. Lindsey Buckingham was mostly behind the sound of Tango In The Night, because it began as a solo record of his and because when it became a Fleetwood Mac record, he still ended up doing the majority of the production and even a little bit of the engineering. So, while doing as I usually do, I was trying to channel him a bit also. The drums and percussion are largely informed by “Family Man” and “You & I, Pt. 1 & 2” off Tango In The Night, BUT the hi-hat pattern was actually inspired by the intro to Yasuko Agawa’s “Inside Out”, a city pop tune from 1983. Beyond that, there are a few central components to the track: the arp melody, the guitar, the piano, and the marimba. The arp is a chiffer lead from the M1. The flutey-bell feel of the chiffer lead really lined up with my Tango In The Night inspired vision for this song. Then there’s the classical guitar and that was informed by Lindsey Buckingham of course, but also has slight moments of Roddy Frame/Aztec Camera. That guitar is by a brilliant player I’ve worked with in the past, Sergei. Those who follow my music will recall his nylon string work on my song, “Escapades”, from last year. The piano melody went through MANY changes and alterations, until it became the one you hear on the EP. At one point, it had Tears For Fears-style layered piano sounds and big, synthetic horns. It just wasn’t what I was after though, so I stripped it back and re-wrote some things completely. Once that was done, the marimba fell into place quickly. I think I made 41 or 42 different demos before I settled on what would become the final EP version of this song. I look forward to possibly giving this one a Cabana Edit in the future.

Then, last but not least, came Shambhala. A gorgeous and ethereal track that spun out of a song for my DnB/Techno side project, Unlimited Oceans, that track being “Astral Sea” off UO’s Blue Impact EP. Shambhala began life after I essentially lifted the pad chords from that tune, made some alterations, and wrote a new segment into them. The feeling to me then was very dreamy and enchanting, hence the title. layered those pads quite a bit, I wrote the shakuhachi lines, had the guitar laid down, and then wrote the piano sections. This may be the most new age song I’ve ever done, with the flute lines and piano passages, but I think the drums anchor it a little bit and give it more of a sophistipop feel. It does have something of an Aztec Camera meets Enigma sort of vibe to it at times, which I really like. That said, it does put me in mind of one act in particular and that’s Lenny Ibizarre, who has done some beautiful work and been featured on Café Del Mar compilations and things. Something about the piano + guitar pairing, the kind of call and response with one another really put me in mind of his songs, “Las Brisas” and “El Viejo Pescador”. I only discovered Lenny early this year or late last year, after a recommendation from a friend, so it’s possible he was a subconscious inspiration. As for who I was intentionally trying to channel with this song, Enigma and Bella Sonus were really the initial influences. Either way, Shambhala was a lot of fun to make and I think it’s a logical progression of a few things I’ve done in the past. I think it’s safe to say that this track will probably get a remix or two in the future and that an alternate version will definitely appear on the next Cabana Edits EP.

Hideaways III is out now.

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Reviews 312: Joe Morris

I’ve had considerable difficulty putting down my thoughts concerning Joe Morris’ Exotic Language, though not because of the music…a sonic paradise so panoramic and immersive that my mind is completely overwhelmed with hyperbolic descriptors and imagined fantasy landscapes. No, the difficulty comes from determining how to properly contextualize the work of an artist whose music has meant so much to me over the last few years and who has been a constant guidepost as I’ve explored this vague soundworld we all call “balearic”. So perhaps it’s best to go back to the beginning, which involved me trawling through the Is It Balearic? Discogs page picking out titles whose label art resonated with me…visuals that captured some indefinable spirit of beachside meditation and solar fantasy dancing. This of course led me to Joe’s Golden Tides 12”, the label art of which was given over to impossibly beautiful sunset scenes, ones that were washed out into a sparkling tapestry of golden radiance. It was exactly what I was looking for and from then on, I’ve been in a near constant love affair with the producer’s work, which has led my spirit through so many wonderful musical environments, whether it’s the mystically inclined Bahia EP on Balearic Social, the Cloud Nine 12″ on Wonder Stories, or the increasingly esoteric remix work of Clandestino, Joe’s party crew and studio project run in conjunction with Iain Mac and Nick J. Smith, who have perfected a particularly tripped out style of jacking dancefloor ritualism.

But as great as those works are, the undoubted high point for me came with the release of Jacaranda Skies on Pleasure Unit, an EP that opened Joe’s sound up considerably and foreshadowed many of the adventurous environments he would travel to on his epic full length. Across the 12”, the listener was treated to a tropical house slammer, a futuristic acid jazz ritual, and one of my favorite tracks of recent memory, “The Lost Garden,” which melted the heart with timeless string descents while mallet instruments danced amidst sparkling synths, reverberating guitars, and island percussion exotica. After the release of Jacaranda Skies, I just knew Joe had to drop an album, one that would allow his increasingly adventurous and cinematic sonics to spread all the way out, unrestricted by space or time considerations. Thus I was completely blown away in 2019 as my fantasies came true in the form of Exotic Language, the producer’s magnum opus and a near perfect summary of the many colorful sonic universes he has visited across his career. It’s a true album experience, with well considered track sequencing taking the listener on a oceanic dream journey encompassing Italo deep house, Chicago club workouts, spiritual Afro-trance, ethereal pop-ambient, acid-laced downtempo, aqueous guitar mesmerism, amorphous dub, and so much more. And though mostly realized as a solo effort, including the fantastic artwork, Joe is joined by some crucial guests in the form of Private Agenda and his son Milo.

Joe Morris - Exotic Language (Shades of Sound, 2019) We open on “Firefly Beach,” with guitar swells creating aqueous ripples amidst cricket chirps and crashing waves…the vibe not unlike Onyricon’s “Sweet Dream.” Plucked harps flow through interstellar fluids and synthetic arps smear into seafoam as momentum builds, with hand drums and cymbal taps leading to a low-key climax of downbeat ocean grooving. Tambourines shake through layers of brass synthesis and basslines blur in and out of focus…all while crystalline tones descend amidst solar flare vibrato orchestrations. Next is  “Perfume,” a collaboration with Private Agenda that, if released in the 90s, would have appeared on every single balearic comp, so closely does hit that essential seaside pop vibe, with touches of ethereal R&B married to oceanic chill-out in away strongly evoking the work of Afterlife, especially “Dub in Ya Mind (Beach Club Mix)” and the legendary “Speck of Gold.” Rhodes keys sparkle, big bottomed jazz breaks keep the body vibing, and dreampop guitars swim through ether as funk basslines slide through sexual smoke. Elsewhere, pianos constructed from ocean glass play melodies of dream melancholia alongside blazing string themes and laserbeam sequencing. And carrying the whole thing is a chilling vocal performance from Sean Phillips, his multi-layered and soulful hooks pushing the heart towards pure sunset euphoria. Our first taste of club fire comes via “A Dance With Jupiter,” which touches on Chicago house as well as the intense rave workouts of Clandestino. The track starts with loon calls, spectral rattles, mermaid hazes, and bongos popping over tubular basslines before we flash into a jacked out four-four house groove. Anxious cymbal work cuts up the air, electrified claps crack on the beat, and waves of angel synthesis wrap around the spirit while elsewhere, we breakdown into smacked kicks, brass heatwaves, and hand drum tribalisms. And as acid lines filter in from the void, the track snaps back into a tech house fever dream, with increasingly wild 303 patterns spraying neon liquids over anthemic chord riffs while 90s rave whistles are danced around by polychrome pan-pipe tracers.

At the start of “Echo Station,” cymbals flow through timelag generators, guitars flutter, and hand drums pop through mutating fx chains until we drop into a subsonic bass groove, with dubwise drum beats pulsing through a stoner paradise. Weirdo reggae riffs wiggle in each ear, with organs and trumpets mutating into insect psychedelia and metallic chords wavering through delay-soaked mirages. Spacey six-strings shimmer, pianos skip across new age sunbeams, and flutes execute LSD dances as the rhythms refuse to coalesce, creating that classical drug touch…a sort of fevered fantasy space where everything constantly shifts through humid layers of rainbow fog…the vibe not unlike the recent work of Androo. There’s a moment where the rhythms fade to gas amidst rimshot cloudforms while anthemic ocean wavefronts fade in, with touches of ambient prog glory shining through the deep blue hazes. Fantasy sequences climb playfully towards the clouds and synthesizers filter into neon magic as the dub riddims finally return, now with piano starlight sparkling amidst drunken brass fanfares. Next comes “Celestial Plantation,” wherein pads settle like a ghostly ocean fog, one aglow in prismatic hues of mother-of-pearl. Birds chirp, waves crash, and hand drums cascade through delays before blurring into a flutter of blutterfly wings…all while bass pulses give the abstracted groove a touch of tribal body magic. Melodic brass themes peel away to reveal sparkling gemstone electronics and electro cymbals hiss across the spectrum as the vibe grows ever more blissed out, with the spirit soaring on waves of coral colored euphoria. The heart overflows with balearic majesty and all bad vibrations are washed away by starlight electronics and glowing melodic crystals as Joe sets the body afloat via gaseous chill-out rhythmics. And best of all, there are these glorious moments where the spirit seems to rise above the clouds, with synths swelling and white noise hazes parting to reveal spiritual whistle tones and elven pan-pipes…a sort of new age paean to the spirits of the sea pulling the mind towards a beachside oasis, with palm trees blowing in a tropical wind while birds of paradise flit amongst the fronds.

In “Dream Clouds,” galactic vapors rattle amidst an angel choirs comprised of male cyborg breaths and glimmering fairy voices. A four-to-the-floor pulse is accented by acid bass jacking, hi-hats spread into ticking psychedelia, and clipped snares give the beat a faint disco pulse as we soar through Joe’s own paradisal imagining of Italo dream house….a euphoria-kissed fantasy world of lush dancefloor exotica…spread out, gaseous, and with billowing waves of ether stoking hallucinogenic visions. Filtering phasers infuse the aqueous pad motions, paranoid rimshots transform into kosmische energy tracers, and feedback marbles glisten in cold solar light as the snares and claps fire in that distinctly Clandestino way…the mind never allowed to settle while pushing ever closer towards hyperventilated delirium. Elsewhere, kicks pull away for a machine jazz jam, all rigid robot bopping before slamming back into fantasy dance magic, with blistering chords ringing out, white light pads bending into dolphin sirensong, and crystalline chords conversing with reverb-soaked cricket chirps. “Acid Safari” hits similar notes of freaky forest acid as “Mangrove Dawn” from Jacaranda Skies, though replacing that track’s ritualistic percussion flow with fat-bottomed rave breaks and a dubwise bass skank. The baggy and zoned out 90s-style beat science is accented by industrial tom-tom splatter, echo-soaked hand percussion, cave crack snares, and mechanized cymbal hiss, with the mix increasingly suffused by monkey howls and orchestral heatwaves. Sunbeam guitar percolations and syncopated synth riffs morph through delay layers until the vibe grows murky, resulting in a mystical environment of dispersed rhythms and machines that growl like jaguars. Cosmic acid lines diffuse in and hand drums carry the soul towards the heart of the jungle, with sunlight filtering through the dark tropical growth in the form of six-string echo dances. Blasting back into sunshine rave breaks and dub-kissed psychedelics, mutating acid lines roar at the edges of the mind and as we move towards the end, saloon-leaning Rhodes chords portend a cinematic western sunset while string synths melt towards an impossible horizon.

There’s some mystical magic happening within “Spirit Walker,” with Joe taking deep inspiration from Larry Heard as he crafts an ambient house epic. But that’s not all, for amidst the mermaid choir fantasias, harmonious whalesong hazes, and clouds of cyborg psychedelia, snare drums rattle into a free jazz fever dream, shakers keep a hypnotic pulse, and hand drums alight on adventures of Afro-beat intensity…the track coming together as some inspired amalgam of ecstatic future dance energy and ancient tribal magic. Animalistic acid lines growl down low and dream house piano chords blur through sunset colorations until eventually being replaced by pure trance vocal synthesis…these chopping waves of angel bliss pushing the mind towards transcendence. There’s a moment where the basslines pull away, leaving behind a gaseous world of spiritual jazz, wherein pianos decay while cinematic pads are surrounded by whooshing layers of aquatic ambiance. Then, as we slam back into Afro-house firedance, balafons and kalimbas weave in and out of the Goan voice layers…a mix of idiophonic rainfall and slow motion trance ecstasy that could float my spirit forever. Closer “Milo’s Theme” begins with morphing synth chords…like pianos obscured by alien foam. Hovering sea-spirits radiate aquamarine while dream sequences dance ear-to-ear and after a gaseous burst, we flow into an immersive groove of downtempo drumming and bongo tropicalia. Chopping vibrato hazes diffuse in and out of empty space, guitars sing spiritual songs of seaside blues, and gemstone melodies flow upwards as feedback tracers mimic sad seagull cries. Then, the rhythms disappear and the song gives over to a new age soundbath, one that celebrates the newness of life with joyous baby babbles (sourced from Joe’s son Milo) and bubbling strands of melted ocean glass. And after a climactic reprise of sunset groove majesty, with layered guitars, tremolo psychedelics, and squelching piano chords hovering over post-rock rhythmics and balearic beat expanses, we return again to a world of ambient sea-spray, abstracted echo weirdness, and gurgling infant breaths.

(images from my personal copy)

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palmeras cocoteras

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Bonnie & Klein - Beautiful City (Über, 2014)

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Fireplace, Pool, & Air Conditioning.

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Soulful, cosmic house via REAL BALEARIC.

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Reviews 300: Private Agenda

Throughout 2019, Private Agenda have been crafting imagined landscapes…these dream renderings of paradise islands surrounded by boundless oceans, with sparkling blue waters crashing against white sand shores, coconut trees blowing in a warm seabreeze, and exotic flowers releasing strange perfumes that push the mind towards bliss. Having graced Lo Recordings’ Spaciousness compilation last year, the duo of Sean Phillips and Martin Aggrowe have united again with the label for an ambitious project of sonic fantasy, which started this summer with the Aura EP, a digitally released collection comprising four pitch-perfect pop numbers, a couple of which now rank among my very favorite Private Agenda tracks (which is saying something considerable). The EP sees the duo’s lyrical and production work hitting an apex, with their vocalizations touching on the sensual and the futuristic as gentle layers of sci-fi studio trickery caress every turn of phrase. And musically, we are treated to etheric synth-pop starscapes, krautrock hypno-glides, and neon new wave propulsions that exude an irresistible sense of melancholia…a brief yet masterful pop adventure and a high point for both Aggrowe and Phillips. But beyond this, the EP serves another purpose: as an opening chapter to an immersive story called Île de Rêve, which is a less a traditional album and more so a “series of transcendental reminiscences surrounding the cult of islands.”

Private Agenda are no strangers to balearic ambiance and touches of mystical seaside magic kiss most of their work, most specifically the (almost) beatless ethereality of their Primary Colours EP from 2017. But even given these tendencies towards new age textures and floating atmospherics, I am still blown away by Île de Rêve’s total dedication to surreal environments of cosmic aquatic wonder. The duo’s well-honed pop sensibilities are completely subsumed, with Phillips and Aggrowe instead using synthesizers, pianos, and the barest semblance of voice to transport the listener to the titular island of dreams. At times it feels like we are on land, pushing toes through warm sand as seabirds fly overhead, gazing over the horizon during a summer storm, or exploring the interior of the island…its gemstone caverns, crystalline streams, and flower fields exuding atmospheres of pastoral prog romance. Other times we are swimming in the waters off shore, joining in with the fluid movements of dolphins or exploring the mysteries of coral reef universes. In the album’s liner notes, Private Agenda talk about the peculiar paradox of growing up on an island…”a sense of isolation tempered by a strong sense of place.” And so it goes with the music: the introspective ambient sonics pull the spirit inward and invite reflection while simultaneously carrying the imagination towards a well-defined location…a tropical island in an ocean of dreams.

By August, I had spent several weeks with Aura and Île de Rêve and was preparing to write a piece on both when, much to my surprise, Private Agenda dropped The Space Between Swells, a digitally released remix EP featuring seaside sound masters Max Essa and Mark Barrott. Essa takes on the title track from Aura, and flips what is already a pop masterpiece into a stunning adventure of beachside dance ecstasy, one that proceeds across an extended vocal take and a heady dub disco fever dream. Then there’s Barrott, who elongates and transforms Île de Rêve’s “Sea Life” into a utopic slice of balearic beat…an early morning nature dance anthem built from deep dub atmospheres, underwater bass bubbles, liquid guitar textures, aqueous synthwaves, and angelic vocal repetitions (which is then backed by a dub and a narcotic accapella version that revels in the spirituality of silence). When I first learned Essa and Barrott were the remixers, I was as excited as I was unsurprised, for the two are natural choices to take on the narcotic pop and ambient vibrations of Private Agenda. But as ever with Aggrowe and Phillips, there is a deeper reason behind the choices, one that was recently revealed in an interview over at Vehlinggo, for you see, both Essa and Barrott have lived most of their lives on various islands (UK, Japan, Ibiza), giving them a unique perspective on Private Agenda’s overarching investigation of sacred ocean spaces.

Private Agenda - Aura (Lo Recordings, 2019) “Aura” starts with futuristic boogie rhythms, which set the stage for sweeping synthetic melodies, heavenly doo-wop choirs, and Chic-adelic funk guitars. As we drop into the verse, Phillips sings sensual lyricisms, with his fragile voice occasionally accompanied by soulful backing harmonies. During the chorus, gemstone synthesizers rise towards the sky and the singing erupts into some fantasy amalgam of MJ, Romanthony, and Jónsi as Phillips calls out: “and then when I wake up / I’ll hold you back,” with each “hold you back” refrain trailed by backing vocal ethereality. After a passage of percussive fireworks, with toms and snares splattering across the spectrum and tambourines jangling, we move into an instrumental variant of the chorus, wherein backing vocal cloudforms and tropical synthesis generate a balearic dreamscape before Phillips returns for one more round of vocal pop perfection. Then in “Grapple,” atmospheric swells phase between ocean and starlight while a hypno-rhythm soars through the cosmos. Looped voices pulsated and tubular bass sequences dance while pitch shifting leads descending upon the mix, sounding as if audial streaks of silver are mutating as they echo star-to-star. A clap introduces the verse, with octave basslines grooving and Phillips singing dystopic futurisms concerning nuclear fusion and chemical cocktails raining from the sky. And as the phrase “I tried to resit it / I can’t I can’t go on” trails into wordless ether, we hit an ultra-kosmkische glide, with echoing sequences and neon arpeggiations racing through galactic expanses. Another clap brings back the vocals, only during the second measure, a key change sweeps the soul towards realms of paradise perfection. And then comes a moment that never fails to bring tears…a passage so powerfully transcendent, with angel choir pulsations washing over the soul, layers of interstellar magic bringing LSD dream visions, and kosmische grooves working the body into space age synth-pop hypnosis. 

“Kingfisher” sees dreampop guitars ringing out through pink and purple synth hazes as an airy trip-hop beatscape emerges. The vocals are so narcotizing and mysterious, with Phillips singing “everybody knows your name / blend into the background” in a way evoking the romantic spiritualisms of Air, all while spy movie guitars bring parallel evocations of Chris Isaak, Portishead, and Angelo Badalamenti. Elsewhere, arpeggiations swirl at hyperspeed while a baritone guitar decays through a noir nightscape, with the track’s title being whispered and percussion moving in and out of silence. There’s a brief moment that sees the mix reducing to a sea-foam fog as lonely guitars sit beneath birdsong field recordings, but the ambiance soon cuts away in favor of dramatic percussion passages, which then lead back to the narcotizing guitar pop magic, all liquid slides, desert hazes, ethereal arps, and soloing synth psychotropia intertwining while the stuttering percussion leads a softly anthemic body groove. Aura ends on “Lighthouse” and its themes of synthetic brass fluttering on clouds while seascape guitar chords disperse above kick drums, snares, whispering hi-hats, and growling funk bass riffs. The singing during the verse flits above sparse rhythms while six-string chords evoke shimmering harps and there’s a dirgey sort of chorus, with voices in each ear harmonizing and swooning together through paradise motions, creating atmospheres of soulful wonderment as backing vocals add touches of shadowy drama. Later, we break down into futuristic synth psychedelia, with electronic tracers circling wildly before progressing into alien madness…all while a breathy voices speaks “lighthouse” above chugging bass riffs and a kick drum heart pulse. Blasts of interstellar synthesis arc across the stereo field as the track erupts again into the all-encompassing chorus, with the heart swept higher and higher until an arresting minor key voice transition…an unexpected touch of prog drama leading to mutating voice coda.

Private Agenda - Île de Rêve (Lo Recordings, 2019) In “Bounty,” mermaid choirs hover beneath stabbing synths and swooning chord progressions are carried upon ethereal swells while aquatracers diffuse through the mix…these neon squiggles echoing through infinite oceans. Brass chords quiver before exploding with energy, which brings a touch of funk sensualism to the beauteous flow, and sequences constructed from glass move through dazzling patterns and rainbow colorations. And later, sea sirens sing radiant songs and layers of comforting hiss immerse the body as the spirit drifts towards Private Agenda’s island paradise. White light synthesis swells in from the void in “Sea Life,” bringing with it crystalline melodies that waver like a mirage. Downtempo drum pulsations are constructed from thudding kicks, electro-toms, and interspersed tambourines while funk-colored bass motions support yearning repetitions of “sea life”…the voice hauntingly beautiful and child-like, with etheric wavefronts swelling in support. There are soft transitions into ocean prog majesty, with basslines carrying the soul and synthesizers flowing outwards before reversing into mist. Then, as we return to the melodious vocal incantations, multiple layers flow in round while coral colored key strokes dance on sunbeams. “Wave Motion” follows with orgasmic pads surrounding the body…the vibe warm and womb-like. There are touches of 70s style mellotronic prog breaking through the dense layers of sea-fog while overhead, fragile piano melodies wander freely…the sound close mic’d and intimate, with squeaky hammers hitting dusty strings and bench creaks and soft breaths heard amidst the bucolic keystrokes. The ambient layers reduce to black smoke at some point before slowly filtering back into an oceanic haze and eventually, the pianos mutate through zany delay runs.

The epic length “Ultramarine” revels in dreamworld pads that vibrate with ecstatic energy. White noise percussion skips across an alien sea…these filtering snare rolls buried beneath layers of deep sea growth and sometimes morphing into whip cracks…while sparkling leads dance through an underwater wonderland. At some point, the wispy drum noises and dreamy melodies drop away, leaving atmospheric synths to waver like the reflections of sunlight off water, with evolving oscillations almost overtaking the mix before fading into nothingness. And as the rhythms return, they are joined by squelching synthfunk riffs and sub-sonic bass currents, with everything locking in for a beatless stretch of ambient house euphoria…like Larry Heard soundtracking a coral reef dreamworld. In “Monsoon,” thick polysynth riffs execute a paradise waltz while starshine echoes flow in counterpoint. This is the only other vocal track on the album and the lyrics are spellbinding, with Phillips working through soft variations of the phrase “in darkness / I sit and watch the rain fall” while his voice subtly mutates…as if a kiss of vocoder has been added to further enhance the futuristic dream aura. Psychosonic static textures crawl into the mix before sweeping it all away into a romantic filterscape, wherein crystalline leads ping like sonars, orgasmic synthesizers flow through warm distortions, and psychedelic wah-wah motions flutter above heartbeat kick taps. Once we rush back into the pounding polysynth riffs and echoing arp lines, the synth swells from the midsection remain, adding a strange yet comforting touch of alien orchestral magic. Towards the end, the vocals reprise their swoon-song spiritualisms as the mix begins fading away and eventually, a lone voice is left calling out over polychrome synthwave minimalism.

A golden-toned piano swims through the sky in “Solitude,” its lilting chords intermingling with gentle arpeggiations. Aggrowe’s playing is expressive…sometimes radiating primal power while at other times backing down into a whisper…and here and there, a screaming siren sweeps upwards with the piano for moments of stunning emotional power. Elsewhere, as the ivories settle back into a melancholic meditation, laser fire sequences weave neon patterns through the air and subsonic bass currents underly everything, their sounds evoking a contrabass bowing through layers of darkness. And during breathtaking climaxes, the dam bursts and waves ethereal atmosphere wash over the soul, melting the heart as the spirit ascends towards some star kingdom at the center of a deep sea universe. Next is “Melani,” with oscillations hypnotizing and hovering…as if time is standing still. Melodies sound sourced from a piano, but slowly morph and mutate into synthetic mesmerism…these golden hazes and lush romantic decay trails swelling in strength then dispersing. There are touches of kankyō-ongaku shining through, with my mind going to the work of Yoshimura and Hirose, as well as Hosono’s closed eyed synth journeys…the track seeing Aggrowe and Phillips similarly subsume melody in favor of spacious silence and atmospheric sound design. Cricket chirps diffuse in before fading away as the mix devolves into nothingness…a false ending that leads to a post-rock ceremonial for the sunrise. Later, black clouds of bass ambiance float the soul while ecclesiastical synthesizer leads rain down from the heavens and as the pianos resume their echoing ocean dances, we find ourselves in a world of modernistic new age wonderment…the vibe at once enchanting and deeply hallucinatory.

There’s a touch of Pachelbel’s “Canon” to the blissed out pads of “Dependency,” which are supported by soloing church organs…the two elements creating an instrumental hymn for the sky, though sometimes the synths distort into a garbled mess. The electronic textures are eventually swapped out for piano, with chord patterns falling like rain. Yearning space leads progressively modulate through alien tremolo weirdness and drunken arps careen across the mix, with wild filter formations moving in and out of time. It’s a world of contrast, with pianos growing ever more transcendent as the electronic elements are destroyed by ring modulation and outer-dimensional vibrato. After a climax awash in disorientation, we back down into the Pachelbel drift, with the church organs contorting into insectoid noise, synths filtering into warm wet brass, and flutey electronics transmuting into feedback. Closer “P.S.R.” begins with billowing waves of fuzzform synthesis creating a sunset panorama, with melodies reaching deep into the heart even as they are smothered in static and shadow. Aqueous stands of light escape from the murky atmospherics, their bright curlicues wrapping around the mind while slow filter movements stoke psychedelic hypnosis. Everything is in motion…though slowly, with progressions moving at the speed of universal evolution. Waves crash in against white sand beaches and are rendered in a soft-focus blur…like a paradise beach visited on a cloudy day. Delay-soaked pianos rain down from a grey sky and evoke the minimalist dreamscapes of Jordan de la Sierra, while subdued fusion textures swim in the background. And swells of church organ bass support it all, creating currents of soulful magic as the ivory incantations carry the mind away.

Private Agenda / Max Essa / Mark Barrott - The Space Between Swells (Lo Recordings, 2019) Max Essa’s extended vocal mix of “Aura” sets things to a muscular disco beat awash in conga and bongo tropicalisms, with voices echoing and blissful pads surrounding a romantic synthbass dub groove. Pianos trace out vague remembrances of the original track’s melodic themes, spaceguitars flow through deep sea phaser fx, and a synthetic brass section pulses on etherwaves over ultra-tight wah guitar accents…all until swirling electro-tracers bring in Private Agenda’s cinematic synthesizer themes. Basslines slip and slide through buttery distortions, even evoking fretless fusion sensuality, and there’s a tight shuffle on the hats that is oh-so-irrestible, with everything setting the stage for the vocals, which here swim through layers of tremolo atmospherics. The chorus is similar to the original, with Phillips erupting through soulful intensity while layers of backing vocal radiance cause the heart to swoon and sway. Elsewhere, we rush upwards on pulsating keyboards as the drums break down into a Latin funk stutter, with anthemic anticipation building as voices and synthesizers coalesce into sunset magic. Arps glisten before fading into air and dreamhouse pianos tease ecstatic riffs while Essa’s typically liquid guitar psychedelics flow ear-to-ear. And above it all, Phillips’ sexual hooks are repurposed into soulful dream textures. Essa and Private Agenda also present a dub mix of “Aura,” wherein hand drums sit beneath aquatic echos as the bass is given a boost of dub disco strength. In lieu of vocal leads, the balearic groovescapes are colored by saucer-eyed pads, piano explorations, and oceanic electronics that stretch towards the horizon and at times, coral-hued fusion leads soar through the mix…their dueling harmonies bringing airs of laser prog majesty. Near the end, angel hazes flutter thorough sea-foam and tripped out wah guitars converse with mermaid murmurs while up above, schools of fish reflect rainbow panoramas as they swim across the spectrum.

Mark Barrott’s take on “Sea Life” begins in the natural world, as crickets converse over deep earth oscillations. Hi-hats and hand drums build a groove amidst kosmische synthesis and Phillips’ “Sea Life” refrain is even more gaseous as it loops and echoes over itself. A subtle key change brings airs of hope before the kick drum hits and then, following a brief rhythmic breakdown, the beats rush back in alongside subsonic bubble pulses…these alien bass textures sitting somewhere between synthesis and percussion. The vocal refrain flows in and out of the mix according to Barrott’s mysterious dream logic and laser light oscillations smolder before rocketing towards the celestial sphere, while later, guitars morph through crystalline feedback glows and chiming echo hypnotics…like Floydian space rock intertwining with Roy Montgomery’s experimental ambiance. There’s a brief moment of rest near the middle where insect chirps move through the mix like a mirage while melodic bass sequences bop untethered, but soon the heady hi-hat patterns return us to tropical slow dance ecstasy, with the “sea life” hook wrapping the spirit in cooing sensuality. And eventually, the groove gives way to a beatless coda where organs transmuting into whale song amidst a haze of soundbath spirituality. In addition to the vocal mix, Barrott presents two further takes on “Sea Life,” the first of which strips the vocals away and thus allows the cosmic atmospherics to take over…creating an even more zoned out ritual for starlight nature dancing. And in a total flip, Barrott also includes an accapella mix, which gives full view into his vocal production sorcery. Pre-delays and reverberations cut in and out unexpectedly as Phillips’ hooks ping pong and smear into ether while elsewhere, humming pulses and looping voices morph into birdsong, psychosonic filter movements pull things in and out of focus, and unexpected temporal shifts lead to overlapping resonances and alien dissonances. 

(images from my personal copy and Private Agenda’s Bandcamp)